


Icicles

by yellowb



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowb/pseuds/yellowb
Summary: Spike needs a hand.





	Icicles

**Author's Note:**

> A ficlet written for Noel of Spike, 2017, and set just before the Christmas after Ketchup and the Crocodile.

Dawn’s frown deepened as she descended the stairs to the apartment.  It was kind of … a lot of debris.  She’d given up expecting Spike to be neat, but he was the one insisting this all be a surprise for Buffy.  There would be no surprise if they left half the tree’s needles out in the hallway.  And really, how much of a surprise was a Christmas tree at Christmas time, anyway?    

When she reached their door, it hung just slightly ajar.  That was another quirk of having a vampire roommate:  he didn’t really see the point of locking up while he himself was home.  Other vampires couldn’t enter, and humans he could handle.  But you’d better believe she’d hear about it for weeks if she was home alone and forgot to lock the door.  

She pushed the door open just far enough to slip inside, and let it shut quietly behind her.  She edged around the corner so she could see into the living room, and couldn’t help but let out an “oh” of astonishment.  Tiny white lights winked at her from a perfect little fir tree, standing proudly in the space usually reserved for the TV stand.  Spike whirled around, a panicked look on his face as tinsel swirled with him in a silver nimbus.

“Bit!  Bit, I need your help.”  His eyes were wild. 

She giggled.

“Now, now … you stop that,” he sputtered.  “’S bewitched, or somewhat.”

She started laughing outright, and at the sound, Ketchup gallumphed off the couch to come greet her.  She rubbed the dog’s head, and dropped her backpack to the floor before semi-circling Spike.  

“Did you shuffle your feet on the carpet?”

“What?” 

“Or maybe it’s because you’re room temperature? Somehow enhances the static charge?”

“Don’t know — don’t care,” huffed Spike.  “Supposed to be on the tree.   _Help me!_ ”

“Let me get the lint roller.”  Dawn stepped towards the kitchen, carefully keeping her cellphone out of sight until the camera came online; she turned and snapped, catching a shot of the vampire looking alarmed as tinsel strands waved wildly from his clothing.  As she watched, she saw tinsel from the tree flutter out and stick to the side of his jeans.

“Now you… you erase that…”

“Spike, consider this your induction into the sparkly vampire crowd.”  That look of sheer horror on his face — Dawn snapped another photo.


End file.
